The Stalker Sociopath
by Cathola
Summary: Stalking someone in your own private hell is an interesting experience, at least if the one you're stalking is a Bennett witch a.k.a your key out of there. (And by the way, can someone give Lame Dracula a chill-pill, he's destroying a perfect stalker day)


It's surprisingly easy to follow someone if they don't expect you to be there, if they don't know you exist. There will not be a problem, as long as they think they are all alone.  
'Cause why would they, for even a second, believe there was someone else in this hell?  
Kai had no idea how exciting it could be to follow them, the rush of adrenaline every time he left them small clues. Clues small enough to be noticed, but not suspicious.  
Remember kids: You are _not_ a good stalker if you are a _noticed_ stalker. Though the threat of following is _very_ effective, if that's what you want to do. There is nothing worse than feeling eyes on you when there shouldn't be anyone watching you.

If Kai had his magic he would have used the cloaking spell, but because of the lack of magic, he has to use the old stalker strategies. The classics, the classics that never die.  
Standing outside the window, following a few meters behind and, of course, hiding in the closet.  
The perfect ingredient for a stalker? Insanity. You can come far with a bit of insanity.

It's been two months and the stalking he does is consuming his life, if you now could say he had one.

Standing behind a curtain in the Salvatore house, barely breathing, he watches the two visitors through a small gap.  
The vampire, Damon, (or as Kai likes to call him: Lame Dracula) is quarreling with the petite little witch in front of him. She sighs loudly and steps away from the bloodsucker, positioning her right in front of Kai. Her short hair smells heavenly and her neck awakens a hunger inside of Kai, a feeling he hasn't felt since... _ever_.

Kai smiles at the thought of grabbing her from the behind and kissing her, oh, so kissable lips. He may be a killer, a heartless bastard, a devil in disguise, but he knows when he sees a beautiful woman.  
And besides, he's a man with a man's instincts, even a psychopath can fantasize, can he not?

But he can't be distracted by her lips and hips, 'cause he _has_ to push her to embracing her magic again. His life, his _revenge_, depends on it.

"I want to go home, Damon!" she yells. Kai pouts over not being able to see her face; she has the cutest angry face he has ever seen. The dark and angry parts of her arouses him and the need to bring it out of her, make her grow and accept the darkness, is a craving he can't stop.

"I want to go home, be with my friends", she whispers with a sad voice. "And be with Jeremy", she continuous. _Jeremy?_ He shakes his head, nostrils flaring and heart beating faster, and tries to ignore the venom burning in his veins.  
Feelings is not something he has... Not something he should have.

Bonnie and Damon walk out of the room, still shouting at each other, leaving Kai standing there.  
A sociopath with a beating heart. 

The crossword laying on the table takes less than three minutes to solve, and he grins at the pathetic tries he has seen them make to solve it. Guess you need a sociopath to solve the problem; no emotions of hopelessness, frustration or irrational thoughts being in the way.

The famous couple is for the moment at the grocery store, shopping ingredients for the stupid pancakes they always make. Kai snorts and considers making something else for them, but it would be to noticeable, he can't risk the chance of them finding out about him. Yet. 

It's three o'clock in the morning, and as usual at this time, Kai is creeping around in the shadows, watching Bonnie sleep. He watched Damon in the beginning to keep an eye at him, see if what the two of them did at night, but watching him sleep was as fun as watching paint dry or looking at a brick.  
He doesn't have to watch him, as long as he watches Bonnie. And she is, by far, the most interesting thing in his dull world.

Bonnie is breathing softly, lips parted and eyes closed. She never looks more peaceful than when she sleeps, though Kai prefers her awake, full of life and emotion. Her legs are tangled in the sheets and Kai's gaze devours her skin, the skin that is visible to him. So beautiful. So tempting.

The glass window is the only thing keeping him away from her, he does not know if he should be glad it's there or if she should be the one being glad it's separating them.  
Kai's hand presses against the glass, a voice in his mind telling him how easy it would be to break it.  
It's hard to resist the urge, but he manages, calming down when he gazes up at the moon instead of at her. 

He watches her in silence, like a beast waiting for his prey.

This new feeling of being interested in something more than taking revenge frightens him. And when you are frightened you hide or kill it. Frightened of thunder? Hide in the closet with a pillow over your head. Afraid of spiders? Take a shoe and smash it.  
But Kai can't hide, not forever if he wants to escape the prison world, nor can he kill _it. _If he would kill her, because of the terror of feeling something else than pure rage or insanity, he wouldn't be able to free himself from this hell.  
She _is_ the key; you can't open a door if you've lost the key.

Kai taps the glass softly, both hoping she wakes up and fearing that she does. The cold glass against his fingertips stops him from waking her up himself, he can only watch her sleep soundly.

But who is there to judge him, who cares if he stalks her for a week more or two? He doesn't care and what she doesn't know can't hurt her.

He jumps down on the ground, not caring about the pain, and walks down the road with a smile on his face, whistling "One way or another" by Goldie.

The perfect tune for the sociopath stalker stuck in hell. 


End file.
